


Five Meetings

by ivyelevast



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (2010)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Mild Angst, canonical Astrid/Hiccup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 03:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyelevast/pseuds/ivyelevast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Astrid and Ruffnut secretly meet in the forest throughout their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a birthday gift for a good friend of mine. I agree with her statement that there simply isn't enough viking femslash in the world. And so, this is my contribution.

_1_

Astrid swings the branch experimentally, hitting it across the nearest tree branch. She is not strong―not yet―and it does little damage, but at least the wood is not rotten like the last branch she tried. Admittedly, it is not an axe, but it will do.

As far as clearings go, Astrid could have found many better suited to her purpose, but she is yet a child, and strategy lacks priority. Her mother is a Viking of many words when it comes to strategy―but the girl is always staring at the weapon collection hanging on the wall, unable to concentrate on her mother’s words. After all, how is strategy going to help her when she cannot even try throwing an axe for herself?

Hence, Astrid is reduced to escaping into the forest―silently resenting her mother all the while―to practice fighting with sticks. Astrid has done this for five days now, so she is certain that her skill now surpasses any of the other Vikings’. Of course, she does not dare approach anyone and call them out to battle. It is not that she is afraid that they will laugh at her―she just does not want her opponent to end up in the healer’s lodgings.

“What are you doing?” hears Astrid, immediately stopping mid-swing. Turning her head, she sees a girl staring at her with an odd twist to her mouth. She’s a little taller than Astrid, though Astrid does not think that she is much older. The only other thing Astrid notes are the two stupid-looking braids coming out of the sides of her head. Astrid almost mentions them, but reconsiders.

“I know you,” says Astrid finally, lowering her makeshift weapon. “You’re one of the two that look the same, right?” Astrid does not remember the names.

“Twins, you mean?” comments the taller girl with a bitter smirk. “I’m Ruffnut. And it’s not like we’re one person, you know. I’m my own girl.” Sticking her tongue out petulantly, Ruffnut crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows and looks away pointedly.

Astrid is not sure how to react, but opts to fall back on social habits. “My name is Astrid.”

Ruff―for Astrid recalls the nickname―scoffs and replies easily, “I know.”

Confused and feeling out of her depth, Astrid frowns and turns away, continuing to practice her swing as though she had not been joined. For several moments Ruff seems content to watch―Astrid sees her from out of the corner of her eye―but, eventually, she moves in front of Astrid. The latter does not stop her swings, and is instead provoked at the appearance of a target.

Astrid does not actually intend to hit the taller girl, but Ruff so easily dodges the attacks that Astrid feels her anger rise. “You’re practicing fighting? In secret?” asks Ruff, languidly paralleling the branch’s movements.

“My mother doesn’t want to train me. Says I’m too young. But I’m _not_.” On the last word, Astrid involuntarily swings the weapon more threateningly, managing to clip a few strands of Ruff’s hair and making them stand off to the side. Blinking at having said this out loud, Astrid stops her practice, realizing something. “Wait, what are you doing here? My mother―my mother didn’t _send_ you, did she?”

At this, Ruff laughs; the laugh is genuine but Astrid thinks it reminds her too much of Loki.

“You’re silly. I was just getting away from my idiot of a brother.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” mocks Ruff. Then, face lighting up, she bounces away to scurry underneath a tree and is quick to find her own weapon. “Defend yourself!” is the only warning Astrid receives before Ruff leaps and swings simultaneously, aiming a blow at the girl. Having practiced, Astrid manages to dodge this, but only twenty seconds have passed before she finds herself with her back to the ground, a boot on her chest. The branch pointed above her is wavering, but only because Ruff is having trouble holding in her laughter.

Astrid decides that, one day, she will be better prepared.

_2_

“Sounds like a waste of time,” remarks Ruff, aiming a scowl at the book. She edges farther away from it, leaning her back against a boulder. Astrid, from where she stands several feet away, only rolls her eyes and continues practicing her footwork. It likely looks silly from the side, she knows, but most days Ruff does not let on and allows her to concentrate. Obviously, today is not such a day.

“I’m sure that dancing the dragon to death is a surefire way to win,” says Ruff, stretching her arms out behind her head, feigning indifference. The girl has grown tall and her long and gangly limbs stick out. She is still taller than Astrid, but the latter is catching up. “Or are you planning on putting it to sleep?” Astrid knows exactly how to retaliate―she notices that Ruff watches her as though in a trance, but she is not certain if it is something she is supposed to notice, so Astrid does not call her out on it.

Instead, she says, “Better than tiring it from having to chase your retreating ass for hours!” It is too late to dodge the book―Astrid is too personally aware of Ruff’s speed―but at least her reflexes are honed well-enough to catch it before it hits her in the face. The taller girl, judging by her expression, expected Astrid to catch it, and so lies back into her relaxed position.

“Anyway,” says Ruff conversationally, “that’s what I think of your ‘studying’.”

Scoffing, Astrid flips open the book of the Dragon Manual, raising an eyebrow at some of the more gruesome images. “Oh, come on. We’re going to have dragon training any day now! I can _feel_ it.” Astrid glances up sharply, not impressed by Ruff’s act. “We’re old enough.”

Ruffnut does not reply, continuing to look elsewhere with a smirk in place. It is time to change tactics.

“Oh,” exclaims Astrid, faking regret. “You don’t know how to read, do you?! Don’t be _afraid_ to admit it, Ruff. I’m sure you’re not the only one.”

The response is immediate and Astrid mentally congratulates herself. The taller girl scowls, her face just about turning red―either in anger or embarrassment, Astrid does not know yet. “Of course I can read!” Swallowing her pride, Ruff extends a hand, motioning with it. “Come on, give it here. If you’re so desperate that you’re gonna call me a coward then you might as well join me.”

Astrid does not understand Ruff’s logic, but she does not feel like complaining. It is not like she would not enjoy the company either. Flipping the pages until she reaches the first, Astrid sits down beside Ruff, leaning on her shoulder conspiringly. “I nicked it off my mother’s shelf. She hates it when I take anything without permission.”

Ruff twists her face in that idiosyncratic way that she has and―in an unimpressed tone―says, “Well, aren’t you the brave one?” Ironically enough, both are too well aware that Astrid’s mother is not a woman to be approached without caution.  

Astrid does not know how well Ruff reads, so she silently decides to read out loud to the both of them. Together they extrapolate on how each dragon could be defeated in combat. They get so carried away in their debate that Astrid takes a moment to understand when Ruff suddenly says, “Don’t tell my brother I read a book, right? He’d never let me live it down.”

And so, wondering to herself, Astrid replies, “Yeah, sure. All right.” And if, in the next couple of hours, Ruff’s arm sneaks around Astrid’s shoulders, or Astrid’s knee seems a bit too close to Ruff’s thighs, neither mentions it.

_3_

When Ruff enters their clearing, she does not expect to see Astrid dealing with a self-contained fit. At least, that is what she assumes, judging by the axe marks in the nearby tree. However, at the moment it looks like Astrid is trying to see something in the forest beyond and failing.

“I don’t think you should start targeting birds,” comments Ruff wholeheartedly, startling the shorter blonde. “Unless you plan on leaving enough meat on them to eat, of course.”

This is Astrid’s cue to either laugh or retaliate with a jab at Ruff. Uncharacteristically, she does neither, but turns away distractedly, scouring the trees once more. Frowning, Ruff approaches her and leans against the boulder along with her, trying to make out anything odd that would capture Astrid’s attention. Seeing nothing, Ruff narrows her eyes at Astrid, but the girl has turned away.

“What were you doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” shrugs Astrid, glancing at Ruff. “I thought I saw something, but I guess I was wrong.”

Unconvinced but keeping it to herself, Ruff walks over to the abused tree, inspecting the damage from Astrid’s breakdown. The girl does not know how to control her anger at times, but at least no one else receives the brunt of her temper.                              

“Don’t you think it’s weird,” says Astrid slowly. Ruff does not turn back, still wondering what could have gotten under Astrid’s skin like that. This does not look like typical axe-throwing practice. “How Hiccup is suddenly, well, _competent_?”

Ruff freezes up immediately, forcing herself to move and keep her features neutral. She has a bad feeling in her gut. “Yes. I guess we didn’t know him as well as we thought. So what? So the kid’s pretty amazing. We were wrong.” Ruff pauses, not liking how the truth is sounding to her own ears and not wanting to know how Astrid hears it. But the girl just stares.

Glancing at the ravaged tree suspiciously, Ruff tries to smile, but it comes out lopsided and odd. “Why, is that why you’re upset?” The responding silence says more than what Ruff would have liked to know. “Don’t be an idiot,” Ruff finally says, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t worth getting upset over,” she says just loudly enough for Astrid to hear, trying to convince both of them.

Astrid shrugs a shoulder, going to pick up her axe from where she left it near the boulder. It is the image of the axe that jogs Ruff’s reason, and the realization makes her smile brightly. Noisily sneaking up on Astrid’s back, Ruff pulls her arm around Astrid’s upper chest, holding tightly but not so that it would be considered a threat.

“Hey,” Ruff whispers, tightening her arm for a second. “Listen, no one’s fooled, you know. Sure, the kid’s got a few tricks up his sleeves. But everyone knows which one of you’d win in a fight. I mean, yeah, we’re surrounded by idiots, I’ll admit,” Ruff sticks out her tongue, remembering her brother, “but even they know you’re the best.”

Astrid sighs but does not say anything to contradict her, so Ruff counts this as a victory. They stand like that for a few moments, perfectly content. In retrospect, Ruff will realize that Astrid was simply too distracted by her own thoughts to do anything else. But now she smiles and, unthinkingly, raises her other arm and slides it along Astrid’s waist. The latter immediately jolts out of Ruff’s grip, and Ruff, not having expected the action, lets her go.

Watching Astrid ignore her and leave the clearing, Ruff is only mildly surprised that it is not her stomach that has fallen to her feet, but her heart.

_4_

Ruff decides that it is her own fault for choosing _this place_ of all places to get a bit of peace. She has never enjoyed gossip, but apparently the entire village has decided to bombard her with it. So, in order to get away from all of the smiles and winks, she has done what she has not in years. Ruff has run away.

She knows that she is too old for this, but at the same time she knows that no one will worry, either because they will be distracted by the news or because they will assume that she can take care of herself. Both are plausible and true. Only, she did not expect Astrid to not fit into the pattern.

Certainly, she could act like the mature young adult that she is, but Ruff is sick of being polite. Vikings are not supposed to be polite, anyway. So she just ignores the new arrival, trying to focus on the book in her hands. She cannot seem to read and keep her dignity in the village, so Astrid had better let her be. It is not like Astrid has trouble with that these days.

“Ruff, I need to talk to you.” Of course.

“It’s Ruffnut to you, _Ass_.” Ruff sees Astrid wince in her peripheral vision, but pointedly does not look up. The words on the page are not making much sense right now, but that is not something that she wants to think about.

“I’m―I’m guessing you heard the rumors,” broaches Astrid carefully, keeping her eyes locked on Ruff’s face.

Admitting to herself that this conversation is unavoidable, Ruff slams the book closed, startling a couple of birds into flying away. “If you expect me to congratulate you, well,” Ruff stands up, bowing mockingly, “Congratulations to you both―I’m sure you’ll be horridly happy together with your horrid, little, Viking children.”

Alarmed, Astrid steps forward, raising a hand in a placating motion. “No, you see, the rumors aren’t true. We’re not even sure how they got started.” She pauses, smiling wryly. “Knowing Hiccup, he said something stupid and was misunderstood.”

Ruff knows that a part of her is relieved, but the rest is not so ready to jump to conclusions. She crosses her arms and leans slightly on the boulder, just to show that she is not leaving. Yet. “You’re not getting married,” says Ruff curtly, just to be certain.

Astrid has the sense to look embarrassed. “We never really planned to…maybe in the beginning we thought about it individually. But after… We both knew it wouldn’t last forever. We’re better friends than―than lovers,” finishes Astrid, deliberately not looking away even though Ruff can see that she wants to.

“Fine,” answers Ruff bitterly, because what else is there to say? “Fine. But these rumors have been going on for a _week_. Just when are you planning on _hacking them to bits_?!” Astrid jumps back instinctively, and Ruff wants to rein herself in, but she just cannot hold it back. She follows Astrid, twisting her expression and pushing her face into Astrid’s. “ _When are you going to face the truth?_ ”

Ruff waits, and waits, but Astrid says nothing and does nothing, simply stares. Eventually, waiting becomes painful, so, with a sigh, Ruff pulls back, putting a few feet in between them. She wonders how she could ever have liked such a coward, and it is only when Astrid starts stalking towards her, does Ruff realize that she said it out loud.

As Astrid pulls her forward, Ruff tries to guess if Astrid is the type to slap or punch.

_5_

“I can’t believe you’re so short. How is that even possible?” asks Ruff, poking the side of the body that is currently sprawled across her.

“I don’t hear any complaints,” halfheartedly answers Astrid, too busy dozing to answer inane questions with any feeling. Besides, if she pretends to be asleep, Ruff is more likely to let her stay. When a pair of lips kisses her forehead, Astrid does not open her eyes, but she does not hide her smile either.

“We should be getting home soon. I was going to make dinner, remember?” Ruff says somewhere above her. Astrid hums in acknowledgement but decides to slip her hand up Ruff’s skirt in lieu of agreement.

The answering squawk sounds so indignant that Astrid barely restrains herself from laughing. “Okay, you know what? No,” Ruff commands, pulling Astrid’s hand away. “I have been lying on tree roots for the past two hours. There is no way we’re doing this here.” She purposely does not say “again”.

Leaning on an elbow languidly, Astrid looks up through lidded eyes. “You didn’t seem to mind two hours ago.”

Ruff does not even stutter. “Yes, because you’re a heartless wanton who doesn’t consider other people’s backs when it comes to laying them onto horizontal surfaces.”

When Astrid just gives her a look, Ruff clears her throat, looking away. “Or, what I meant to say is that I heard some kids playing nearby. Best not to risk it.”

Deliberately sighing as she gets up, Astrid does not waste the moment and allows her hand to slip on Ruff’s chest. “Come on, then. Let’s go home.” Astrid holds out a hand, ignoring Ruff’s glare. With a glint in her eyes, she adds, “We built a big bed for a reason, after all.”


End file.
